Richmal Crompton

“ He was not used to the human boy. He had never known one before at close quarters. When he gently hinted to William that he must be missed at home, William kindly intimated that they didn't mind a bit and he could stay a good long time yet.
Such mild sarcasm as Strange could produce had the same effect on William as water on the back of the proverbial duck. William was not used to hints. William was not used either to houses where he could sit in the best chairs and talk to his heart's content and eat cake unrestrained. He made the most of it. He liked Vivian Strange. ”

“ Behind the bush they found only Cæsar finishing the remains of the pie and Jumble watching him with wistful envy.
"Catch the old villain before he makes off," said Mr. Beal, and they hastened on to the hedge at the end of the garden and looked over it. There a glorious sight met their eyes. Dick the Dauntless was fighting for his life against hundreds of foes. He punched and butted and dodged and closed. Thousands fell at each stroke. He was dimly aware of three heads watching him over the hedge, but he had no time to look at them. He heard vague sounds, such as:
"Go it, William!" ”

“ William, whose appetite was a never-failing quality, fell upon the crusts and began to eat them.
"Don't spoil your lunch, dear," murmured Mrs. Brown.
"No," promised William, "but—all—I—want—to—know—is—who're—you—makin'—sandwiches—for?"
"Oh, do say something and stop him saying that awful sentence," groaned Ethel.
"Well, dear," began his mother persuasively, "would you like a little party this afternoon?"
"People coming to tea?" asked William guardedly. ”

“ William picked it up, stroking it affectionately with an expression of intense hatred on his face.
"Open the basket, Ginger, quickly."
"Mother!" came a shrill voice in his rear. "Boys is stealin' our cat!"
William dropped the cat and fled down the road, followed by a broomstick, flung after him by the cat's owner, and a stone thrown by the child. The extent to which William's spirit had been broken by his troubles is shown by the fact that he endured these outrages without retaliation. ”

“ The newcomer may have disliked the look of William with his now streaky face and curious costume, he may have been hungry and found the sight of William, devouring the last cake, unbearable, he may simply have been feeling the heat. The fact remains that he hurled himself upon William with the agility of a wild cat, and William in sheer panic rushed through the open French window into the drawing-room, followed by his antagonist. ”

“ Lord Leopold wore the dining-room table-cloth and the morning-room waste-paper basket with a feather, forcibly wrested from the cock's tail by William, protruding jauntily from the middle. Douglas, as the crowd, was simply attired in William's father's top hat and a mackintosh. ”

“ Robert voiced the general sentiment.
"Good Lord!" he said, "fancy anyone wanting to see William!"
"When they're dying, too," said Ethel in equal horror. "One would think they'd like to die in peace, anyway."
"It hardly seems fair," went on Robert, "to show William to anyone who's not strong."
William glared balefully from one to the other.
"Children! Children!" murmured Mrs. Brown.
"How," said Mr. Brown, "are you going to get William over to Ireland?"
"I suppose," said Mrs. Brown, "that someone must take him." ”

“ The entire caste gathered round it.
"It's paper money," said Douglas, impressed.
"I don't suppose it's real," said William gloomily. "Well, where're we got to?"
He turned quickly, and the fern-pot descended sharply, extinguishing his head. He struggled with it without success.
"Can't anyone do anything?" said his muffled voice from inside the fern-pot. "I can't go on acting like this—people can't see me. Well, isn't anyone going to do anything?" ”

“ They raced down the road after the flying white ball—first the cat, then William, then Ginger—through a garden, leaving a cursing gardener in their rear—in and out of a house, leaving its irate owner ringing up the police—first the cat, then William, then Ginger, breathless and afire with the chase. ”

“ On her way down the nurse met Uncle John.
"How long is this young ruffian going to be here?" he said furiously. William had successfully dispelled the air of hallowed gloom from the house. "He's sent my nerves to pieces already—what his effect on that poor sufferer must be——"
"He seems to be strengthening hers," said the nurse. "She's just sent for him."
"That means a few minutes' peace for the rest of the house, at any rate," he said.
William entered the sick room sullenly. He was thoroughly bored with life. Even his enemy, Fatty, was not to be found. ”

“ William walked out of the hall in a dream. It all seemed so wonderful and yet so simple. Probably half the people one saw about were criminals and murderers, if only one knew.
You just found a clue and worked it up. It would be fine to be a detective. Of course, one needed a dressing-gown and a bloodhound, but he had a dressing-gown, and though Jumble wasn't exactly a bloodhound, he was a bloodhound as much as he was any kind of a dog. Jumble was all sorts of dog. ”

“ William looked round at his small band with a proud heart. Though he had not forgotten the aims of his secret society, it was the fact of its existence that really thrilled him.
"Now we've gotter take a sacred an' solemn oath," he said, "an' sign it in our blood, an' get a secret password an' a secret sign an' a secret langwidge."
Leopold created a diversion by announcing, briefly and gruffly, that no one was going to sign nothing in his blood. When threatened with ejection by William, and taunted with cowardice by Sam, he flung himself upon them in dramatic fury. ”

“ William walked with slow dignity down to the gate.
"All I say is," he remarked pathetically to the gatepost as he passed, "I might as well be dead for all anyone thinks of tryin' to make my life a bit happier."
He walked down to the village—a prey to black dejection. What people came away for holidays for beat him. At home there was old Jumble to take for a walk and throw sticks for, and the next-door cat to tease and the butcher's boy to fight, and various well-known friends and enemies to make life interesting. ”

“ William had assembled his caste and assigned them their parts. Little Molly Carter was to be the heroine, Ginger the hero, Henry the hero's friend, Douglas a crowd of outlaws, William himself was to be the villain, stage-manager and prompter. ”

“ What sympathy and understanding of a woman's heart you have shown! It's all the more wonderful that you are a man. And we are friends, are we not?—old friends. We must have a chat." She looked round the room. "Let me tidy up a little first. Ah, the room needs a woman's touch.... Then we will have a talk. There are so many things I want to ask and to tell you—ours will be a very beautiful friendship...."
Mr. Monkton Graham threw a pathetic and pleading look at William. ”

“ William sadly extricated himself from the char-à-banc, thinking bitterly of the vanished twopence, and liquorice, and the excellent meal to be obtained from the village inn. He regarded himself at that moment as a martyr whose innocence and unjust persecution equalled that of any in the pages of the Church History book.
An elderly lady in pince-nez looked at him pityingly.
"What's the matter, little boy?" she said. "You look unhappy."
William merely smiled bitterly.
"Is your mother with you?" she went on.
"Nope," said William, thrusting his hands into his pockets and scowling still more. ”

“ CHAPTER VI WILLIAM AND THE WHITE CAT
William had before now met the strange species of male who succumbed to the charms of his elder sister. William never could think what people saw in Ethel. Red hair and blue eyes and a silly little voice.... Some people (thought William) might call her pretty—but, Crumbs, what a temper!—making a fuss if his dog Jumble chawed up any of her old things, or if he jus' borrowed her bicycle, or if his pet rats got loose in her room. ”

“ But William's protective interests were aroused.
"No; if you're goin', I'll stay with you."
He found the old man's hat and coat and helped him on with them. The old man was quivering with eagerness.
"There will be a clown, won't there, William? There will be a clown?"
"I know there's a clown," William assured him.
They crept downstairs and through the hall in silence. Fortune favoured them. No one came out. Mr. Brown, Mrs. Brown, Ethel and Aunt Lilian were playing bridge in the drawing-room. The hall door stood open.
Outside Grandfather Moore gave a wicked chuckle. ”

“ CHAPTER VII WILLIAM'S SECRET SOCIETY
William considered that the microbe world was treating him unfairly. Mild chicken-pox would be, on the whole, a welcome break in the monotony of life. It would mean delicacies such as jelly and cream and chicken. It would mean respite from the pressing claims of education.
It would afford an excuse for disinclination to work for months afterwards. William was an expert in the tired look and deep sigh that, for many months after an illness, would touch his mother's heart and make her tell him to put his books away and go out for a walk. ”

“ From that a contest in grimaces had arisen, begun furtively, but growing reckless in the heat of rivalry, till a choirman had intervened by digging the choirboy from behind, while Mrs. Brown leant forward and frowned at William. William retired from the contest feeling distinctly exhilarated. He considered that most decidedly he had won. The choirboy could not have capped that last one of his. In a half-hearted way he began to listen to the sermon.
"We all owe our duty to others," the clergyman was saying. "We must all try to save others beside ourselves. ”

“ William and Ginger went slowly down the drive. At the end they turned round. The twins were sitting side by side on the doorstop, smiling and waving fat hands. Their labels were milky and slightly awry, but still they adhered to their persons. William and Ginger turned into the road. William took out the shilling.
"I say," said Ginger, "I—I suppose it's honest?"
"Honest!" said William scornfully. "'S more than honest. We've give them a penny. The slaves was sixpence halfpenny each—proper price—an' we've only took a shilling." ”

“ Graham, whose spirit was broken.
"My aunt's not got much of a garden," said William, "so I expect I shall be here most days. I'll come for the tricycle and money after tea."
"We mustn't be shy of each other," Miss Strange said in low, confidential tones; "my friends call me Ruby...."
Mr. Monkton looked wildly from her to William. His face was the face of a man in the depths of despair. ”

“ The vicar's wife voiced the general sentiments.
"Curious!" she said.
"Surely," said the old lady in a trembling voice, "we haven't been imposed upon?"
"Impossible," said Mr. Mugg, pale but firm. "I have known Mr. Habbakuk Jones from childhood. He is incapable of deception."
"Perhaps," said the old lady, "it's the effect of the sudden change of climate acting upon the pigment of the skin."
There was a murmur of relief at the suggestion. William merely scowled at them. He was wondering how soon and on what pretext he could escape to the woods. ”

“ The dressing up took place in an outhouse that had once been a stable at the back of William's house. The heroine's dress consisted of Ethel's silk petticoat with holes cut for the arms. The lace curtain formed an effective head-dress, and the toilet-cover pinned on to the end of the petticoat made a handsome train.
The effect was completed by the crochet-edged towel pinned round her waist. Sir Rufus Archibald Green, swathed in an Indian embroidered table-cover, with a black satin cushion pinned on to his chest, a tea-cosy on his head, and an umbrella in his hand, looked a princely hero. ”

“ The aims of the society widened. When Mr. Beal, the squire of the village, chased William in person out of his orchard, with the help of dogs, sticks, and stones, he found the next morning in his orchard, in full view of the road, a scarecrow bearing a curious resemblance to himself and wearing a suit of his old clothes.... ”

“ William—only gradually, and under the influence of a large and indigestible meal which Mr. Croombe insisted on giving him in proof of his gratitude—forgot his grievances.
Later, he found his father less sympathetic. Later still, he surveyed the world scornfully through his bedroom window, and thought of his family. It was no good trying to do anything with a family. The only thing was to cut loose from it altogether.
Mentally he surveyed the past evening. Everything was different in real life. What was the good of being a detective when everybody said the people hadn't done the things? ”

“ He'd rather like to try reforming someone else.
They stood up for the hymn. The choirboy was singing lustily. William caught his eye and began to imitate his more open-mouthed efforts. This led to a second contest in grimaces, checked for a second time when at its height by the choirman and Mrs. Brown. William returned to his meditations. Yes, it would be a noble deed to reform someone else, much more interesting and less monotonous and possibly more successful than the reforming of himself hitherto solely enjoined upon him. ”

“ His mother looked at his scowling freckled countenance.
"Well, dear," she said, "there are plenty of books about the house that you haven't read."
"Books," said William scornfully. "Sir Walter Scott's ole things—I don't call that books."
"You can go for walks."
"Walks!" said William. "It's no use goin' walks without 'Jumble'." ”